


Spellbind

by Anonymous



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bonding, Breathplay, Flirting, Frottage, Interspecies Relationship(s), Kink Meme, M/M, Sexual Tension, Tentacles, Vines, accurate snake genitalia, constricted by a snake but in a sexy way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26724646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Of course he didn't regret chosing Snivy. He could never regret that. But hehadwondered about Vine Whips and, well, thinking about it now was feeding the strange gnawing curiosity in his gut.
Relationships: Hilbert/Serperior, Human/Pokemon - Relationship
Kudos: 8
Collections: Anonymous





	Spellbind

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme prompt: 
> 
> _Serperior/Black, filthy filthy smut._
> 
> This was prompted and written long ago, before the fandom had actual names for the Black and White protags. So Hilbert/Touya is called Black in this one. Also he's an older teenager by the time the sex stuff happens.

He shouldn't have thought about it so late at night, the fact that he had a friend who loved him back. Of course he didn't regret chosing Snivy. Black could never regret that. But he _had_ wondered about Vine Whips and, well, thinking about it now was feeding the strange gnawing curiosity in his gut. Giving himself a crumb of what he wanted.  
  
Snivy used his vines like perfectly ordinary appendages. Picked things up with them. Made brisk, flicking gestures. Coiled one around his trainer's arm once while they were climbing a hillside, and the creaking-tight grip sent a thrill through more of Black's body than he knew he had.  
  
He had dreams about it. Imagined the swallowing motion of never-ending vines around him, tightening and slithering around each other. He was fairly sure he shouldn't have liked it.

  
One time, Servine woke him up and hummed a worried note. It was midnight dark, with tree-filtered moonlight shaping the outline of Servine's sleek body. All alone in the night with his Pokemon. Black couldn't explain the racing of his blood or the way Servine's calm stare only made it race harder.  
He said it was nothing. Just a dream. But thanks, Servine -- he felt better knowing his buddy was there.  
Servine stared a while longer. At the time, Black thought his excuse was just that lame excuse and he tried -- oh, he tried -- to get back to sleep.  
  
They explored more and more mountains. Servine kept using his vines to lift fallen logs out of the way, to test bridge boards, to lift lemonade cans and sip with smooth grace. And to coil grip around Black's arm, winding up over his elbow. Once to lift him up over a ledge: with vines thick around his middle, feet dangling and stomach flopping deliciously, Black wasn't sure he regretted it anymore. No, he could admit it after these months. He loved and trusted his friend, whatever that happened to mean.  


  
They camped out one night, on on a late summer night with more summer promised in the wind. Serperior sat watch like usual. He was a beautiful shape in the firelight, a proud-arched curve of white belly that Black must have looked at too long, he must have given himself away because the next thing he knew, a vine snaked under his jacket collar and he was reacting far too warm in his belly.  
He said his friend's name, startled, and looked up into lidded red eyes. Serperior hummed a languid answer, running vines under his clothes and over his goosefleshed skin.  
It must have been obvious, Black thought -- all this time, all this getting to know each other and caring so hard. He smiled, a watery feeling. And he asked if Serperior had wondered, too.  
  
His answer was the rustling of scales on fallen leaves, and the swallowing motion of muscle-hard snake coils, and Serperior's eyes never leaving his. His own breathing got loud in his ears. Wet panting as more of the vines appeared, tugging and unzipping his clothes more or less out of the way. Serperior drifted out of his line of sight, laying heavy and powerful over his shoulders. One more cinch of muscles and Black wrapped tight in his Pokemon, shivering at the forked tongue on his neck.  
He couldn't tell if he cried out. He was locked inside his head, double-bound in fantasy and reality, taking vines in his hands and squeezing them back.

Serperior's voice thrummed through him -- smug as always, but kind as summer shade -- and Black felt a solid presence that could only be another cock against his. Two cocks, splaying apart to stroke Black's hot need between them. Snake physiology, he thought on the fleeting scraps of his mind. What an incredible friend he had. Tightening around him so he could gloriously barely breathe, beginning a rhythm of blinding friction. Black arched as much as he could move, hips spasming in time. Slickness spread down his cockhead and onto Serperior's twin lengths, their thrusting held rough between two bodies. The vines extended, creaking longer and probing farther, pushing his boxers away and caressing his balls and cupping the flesh of his ass but he couldn't spread to allow them more because he couldn't _move_.

He chanted his friend's name, holding those squirming vines and and shaking all over. Serperior squeezed tighter -- at the tingling edge of inability to breathe now, a dizzy rich blackness encroaching on Black's vision -- and Serperior was purring a question that Black didn't understand, he was just gasping _please_ and _yes_ and craning his head back so that tongue could flicker up the whole soft width of his throat. Something touched his face -- the bud tip of a vine, stroking. Black's world shrank to the thin shaft of his vision and then, suddenly, it quaked. It was the trembling of Serperior's muscles in one long wave, spiraling around Black and spilling wet into his lap. His friend hissed his pleasure.

And as Black pushed his hips forward, wanting the peak, he was suddenly free from the waist down and smothered with cool air and cool vines. They bolted around his ankles, spread them slow and locked him open, squeezing his cock with a grip no hand could match. Vines choked and stroked him. Vines traced his cleft and wormed over his belly and with Serperior murmuring in his ear, Black bucked and gasped and was utterly consumed.  
  
He stared at the stars for what seemed like hours, afterward. Might be a while before he could walk, he thought. He beckoned Serperior to bring his head down close so Black could kiss his forehead.  
  
While he did, a vine coiled firm around his arm. Like it was ordinary now.


End file.
